Not That Kind of Girl
by sydiy5bea
Summary: Chloe and Nate go on a date to the opera. This story has been a long time coming.


I turn my head left and right, back and forth, trying to see if my eyeliner wings are in line. "God, I hate makeup..." I shrug at my reflection. _Good enough..._ I tip my head to the side to check my figure in my dress.

Before I can really pull my look apart, Nate knocks on the bathroom door. "Chloe? You alright in there?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." I unlock the door and smooth my hair down before looking him in the eye. "You know us women. We're vain."

Nate chuckles then offers me his arm. I thread my arm through his and let him lead me into the theater. He takes me to our row and lets me sit first. "Such a gentleman," I tease, making him go red.

I yank up on the front of my dress to keep it from revealing anything private as Nate drops into his seat. "So, are you excited?" he asks.

"To be honest, I'm not sure. I've never been to the opera before."

"Yeah, me neither. I've been to Vienna three times and I've never seen one."

"So you decided to see one in Florida? With me?"

"Of course. Who better to see an opera with than you?"

"Literally anyone would be better than me," I scoff.

"Oh please." He puts an arm around my bare shoulders. "You're supposed to take your girl to shit like this. Sully says it's romantic."

I roll my eyes and lean into his embrace. I wish I had his jacket. It's freezing in here. "You talk an awful lot about this Sully character. Am I ever gonna meet him?"

"Eh, probably. But with Sully, later is better than sooner. Trust me." I laugh while Nate takes his arm off my shoulders to grab his phone. "That reminds me. Sully told me to text him before the show started."

I lean back in my seat and study the curtains masking the stage. I sneak a peek at my date. We've been "together" for a few weeks and I can already tell he's different. Normally it's one and done. I'll never hear from the guy again. But Nate was there when the sun came up and he was there a week later. He has the reputation of a tough guy, but he's actually really sweet when you get to know him. His little romantic gestures (random flowers, cuddles, etc.) are adorably endearing, but when he does these things, I don't know how to respond. I've never been with a guy like Nate.

He suddenly snaps his phone shut and apologizes. "Sorry about that. Sully's a little overprotective and likes to know where I am _at all times_." He sighs and drapes his arm around me again, smoothing down my goose bumps. "Anyways-"

Nate is interrupted by the orchestra tuning. I giggle and elbow him in the side.

The singing and music are beautiful, I have to admit, but beauty does not equal interest. _Maybe the story will get more interesting as it goes on. I mean, I don't know what's going on because it's in Italian, but maybe someone will get stabbed. I bet it's the girl. It's always the girl._

During the show, Nate starts out still and attentive, but he starts massaging his fingers. Then he starts trying to discreetly shake out his hands. The movement is very reminiscent of the "I've got icky, sticky stuff on my hands" dance. I can feel his breathing become more and more erratic and suddenly whispers in my ear, "I'm going to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

"Okay. Have fun."

He gives me a peck on the cheek, then stands to leave. I sigh and refrain from smacking my forehead. There he goes with that romantic shit again! I need to tell him to stop somehow. It's sweet and all, but I can't deal with it. I'll tell him later tonight.

Three scenes later, Nate still hasn't returned. It's making me nervous, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt until intermission.

* * *

I stand up to stretch my legs when the lights turn up between acts. Not wanting to be on my own any longer, I take off to find my date.

By the end of intermission, I've checked almost everywhere and Nate's no where to be found. There's only one place left to look. I try to ignore the twisting in my gut. _He wouldn't ditch me, would he?_

I gently knock on the men's bathroom door. Most everyone is already back in their seats, so no one but Nate should be in there. "Nate? You there?"

Silence.

"Come on, if you don't answer, I'm coming in."

Nothing.

"If I come in there and I find you laughing like this is some big joke, I will not hesitate to strangle you."

Nil.

"Okay, here I come."

I press the door open silently, bracing myself for Nate jumping out at me. I get even more worried when be doesn't. "Nate? Answer me." The sinks and urinals are both vacant. All of the toilet stalls are empty... but one. "Nate?" I press on the door, but it doesn't open. Heart pounding in my chest, I crouch and take a peek below the stall door.

"Nate!" I kick open the door and find him collapsed on the bathroom floor. I kneel by his side, and whisper, "Oh god..." I hear the opera starting back up again, but I don't care. I lightly, then more forcefully, slap him. When that doesn't work, I drag him through the deserted lobby with my hands under his armpits.

Once in the car, I run my hand through my hair and glance at Nate's prone figure in the rearview mirror. "Oh, what I do for love..."

* * *

After I kick open the fifth door of the night, I drag Nate into his apartment. I dump him on his bed and check his pulse. It seems a bit too quick and light to be healthy. _What did you do to yourself, darling?_

Suddenly a very stupid idea pops into my head. What did Nate say? _Sully's a little overprotective and likes to know where I am at all times..._

I shake my head and fish Nate's phone out of his pocket. _Nate and this Sully must be close. Maybe his friend can tell me what's going on._

"Sully" is at the top of his recent calls list, so I only have to press a few buttons to get the dial tone. After two rings, he picks up. "What's up, kid? Something wrong?"

"Uh, sorta..."

"Chloe?" His voice sounds nervous now. "Where's Nate?"

"He's, uh... passed out on his bed."

"I'm sorry, girly. This sounds like a problem between you two."

"No, no, no, it's not like that. We were at the opera and he fainted. I took him back home, but I don't know what to do. He hasn't woken up yet."

"Okay..." he sighs, "Okay, I'll be right over."

"Thank you."

* * *

"Where is he?" the man at the door demands.

"He's in his room."

I'm assuming this man is Nate's "Sully". I was thrown off for a moment by his eccentric shirt and carefully groomed mustache. He's definitely not what I was expecting. He crouches at Nate's side and takes his wrist in his hands. He hums thoughtfully to himself and places his palm on Nate's forehead. "Has he eaten anything strange today?" he asks, pulling back one of Nate's eyelids.

"No... Actually, I don't think I saw him eat anything, now that you mention it."

He sighs knowingly and shakes his head. "Damn kid. Probably dropped from dehydration." The man with the mustache rubs his eyes, suddenly looking very tired. "He gets nervous about these kinds of things and probably skipped a few meals to make sure he wasn't going to chuck anything back up on your date."

"Nervous about what?"

"Pretty girls in formfitting dresses."

I roll my eyes. "Well, he is the hopeless romantic sort of guy."

Nate's friend chuckles and happily pats his patient's head. "He's something alright. I'm Victor Sullivan, by the way. I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting yet."

"Chloe Frazier."

"Oh, I know. I've heard a lot about you in these past few weeks. He's really taken a liking to you. He doesn't do that often."

"I've heard a lot about you, too," I say, trying to deflect from my blushing. I don't blush. Ever. "He talks about you all the time."

He waves me off and smirks. "Yeah, I've known him for a long time. I'm pretty much the only person that's stuck around since he was a kid."

My heart tugs a little. Sure, we all have rough childhoods (it's basically a requirement in our line of work), but Nate's different. He smiles, tries to cover his scars, and dreads pulling the trigger. He's your stereotypical knight in shining armor. Always playing the hero.

"He really does like you, ya know," Victor comments. He must have caught me staring.

"Yeah, I know."

"No, he _really_ likes you. He's head over heels for you. Surely you must have noticed."

"...I guess I'm not used to that kind of attention. I'm not used to being the girl you take to the opera. I'm the girl you meet while drunk at a bar, sleep with, and move on from the next morning. I'm just... not that kind of girl."

Victor nods sagely then sighs. "Well, Nate's not the kind of guy to leave a woman in the rain. He's got a big heart."

"Yeah, that's the problem!" I exclaim.

He laughs again, then makes his way over to me and lays a hand on my shoulder. "You'll be okay, sweetheart. All you've got to do is tell him. He'll understand."

I smile up at him and say, "Thank you. I really needed that after tonight's events."

"I'll get out of your hair then. I'm sure I'll be seeing you two around sometime in the near future." He turns to leave, then suddenly turns to add, "Oh, and when he wakes up, tell him he'd better eat something before the sun comes up tomorrow."

"I will. Thanks again."

"No problem." Victor winks once and leaves Nate and I alone.

I sit on the side of the bed and kick my shoes off. I lay myself next to Nate and take his hands into mine. I smile when his eyes flutter open. His face lights up as he mumbles, "Hey, beautiful."

"Morning, Nate." Who am I kidding? There's no other girl I'd want to be right now. I can definitely get used to being Nate's girl.


End file.
